snow white is an alien and dopey is everyone’s favorite dwarf

how does it feel to relinquish
to let go and dive into pools
pools of joyful ignorance
pools of infant arrogance
to forget care and caution
to reject compassion and consequence
to be foolishly unremorseful and gluttonous
if simplicity were a gown, surely it would be lace and lamé
i would adorn myself in it daily
i do not want riches or royalty
i do not want to be powerful
i want to listen to music
without instruments, just technology
i want to appreciate the plight
of not being able to find a bitch to fuck
i want to wear nike and not care about the warehouses
i would love to find prefab premade processed food
in bags in boxes on shelves in stores and not read the ingredients
i want to not know the side-effects of monosodium glutamate
to never see a fantasy re-enactment of the process and production
“partially defatted fatty tissue-the musical”
i want to be blind to mc-ee-d’s and their magical meat
the bread that will never mold and a crypt of special sauce
i want an orange tan from a can and curly locks from a box
i want an over-sized-hot-wheel sports utility vehicle
to cruise around in listening to fake music
talking shit with my fake friends about the other fake friends
and eating my two number 4’s
and not giving a damn about the enviroment
or the slavery or the repercussions or the oppression
but there are some of us born with the burden of this
we see in every action the possible and probable reactions
we know footsteps handshakes and bad business deals create tsunamis
and therefore we must always be burdened with forethought
there can be no shrugging off responsibility
it finds us like a mangy dog no one wants to pet
it haunts our dreams and our moments in restrooms
screams of the tortured past present and future
create tumors in our bodies and minds
we do not need meetings and diplomacy
we do not need figures and graphs
when we see wrong we do, we act, we verb
because humanity must be humane
we know our silence is consent

monsters eating the world

dear uncle sam and friends,

no taxation without representation

the battle cry of old school terrorists

can someone tell me who represents:

transgender people

people of color

those stamped convict

the dykes and fags

the old woman eating cat food to buy medicine

those unable to read

those unable to write

junkies with jobs

the families living in junk yard cars

the single mother of a disabled child

hell, the disabled child

the hungry

the desperate

the mentally ill

the pious without jesus

the starving

the others

where is their representation

who is speaking for them

is there one person standing tall

marginalization of the marginalized

no interpreter of legalese available

leaving us drowning in confusion

the pretty paper and preamble

the bill of rights-dead and stinkin

nothing eliminates the smell of a dying soul

legislation passed revoking fundamental liberties

war crimes against kids in new york, new york

kicking

bashing skulls

suffocation by jalapenos

buying big guns and big bombs and big tits

mcdonalds the corporate sponsor of red white and blue

koch brothers footin the bill paying for exemptions

spending $0.75 of each tax dollar on death

while blaming it on the poor needing food

prisons built turning profits with every criminal

the future home of the lower class guaranteed

lack of education

lack of community

lack of family

the child that sits on a cot among rows of cots

placed there because mommy and daddy had a plant

that’s story

the classic art sold to the masses

declaring war on drugs the most profitable option

there is plenty of return on that one, bob!

war on terror is justification of genocide

killing children

bombing the ill

destroying schools

“oops!  my bad!” and a prefab press release

where are my representatives insisting ceasefire

where are the great minds of government and golf

deemed more capable of speaking my truth than i am

it can’t go on

distended bellies

destruction and death

the shattering of families

breaking communities

no meaningful prevention

no meaningful rehabilitation

just the metamorphosis from desperate to psychopath

domination

blood sacrifice

fully-automatic guns

just distractions and justification of oppression

oooo it’s real!!!

oooo it's real!!!

this reasoning is so ridiculous that my eyes are crossed and i feel the need to smash a brick over this guy’s head! i am utterly beyond disgusted at this! i really really really wish that these rightwing idiot dicks would please learn a bit about prenatal development! sorry a fetus is not even a fetus for the first like 6 weeks, there is no brain until 20 weeks and no, i mean no, neuroprocessing until 24 weeks. on top of that they have no consciousness it’s reaction to stimuli, not any decision making! are you kidding me? a fetus can’t feel shit until 24+ weeks, and don’t think there is any state in the union sanctions post 24 week abortions unless there is a medically necessary reason-fetal or maternal distress-and even then it’s considered birth not abortion and the fetus will be treated like a premature newborn. they have gills or what passes for gills! are you kidding me???
my belief is that if a guy can get away w raping a woman, i can get away with cutting the balls off of every single guy who’s name starts with “l” shoving them in his ears because at least then i am killing anything.

carnival only comes once a year!!!

boys and girls children of all ages just step right up

welcome to the fun-filled carnival of hate and slavery

take an adventure into the exotic house of horrors and lies

don’t forget to check out the new exhibit-pariahs on parade

to the left, get cup of cyanide and grape flavored drink

we are proud to offer a chance to win the competition

the name of the game is “happy murder, happy day”

the first three shots are free, then it’s time to pay

the cost is cheap, endless tries for your humanity

just aim and pull the trigger, simple as can be

easy peasy lemon squeezy, even no need to think

send the hatred hurling, hit the beggars bound in chains

a broken face and broken will the beautiful red dripping

forming tidal pools, the more they bleed the more you win

what are the prizes, you ask, this is only for today

you shot down one, you take it home, mount it on the wall

it only gets better from there, the more you hit and fall

the more you win as you climb toward the big score

i see you salivating as you inhale the smell of death

grand prize if you take them out, a clean shot through the head

lucky you! we’ll string you up so the next one shoots you dead

 

mine is bigger than yours

 

fresh off the presses

it’s nice to meet you

i see you are gay

don’t worry, i am accepting

i once knew a woman

who had a cousin that was one

you know he was

ummmm…like you

then i read a book

about timmy and his two mommies

and before i threw it in the fire

i thought how timmy must feel

and i was a bit concerned

but only because if he had

two mommies who taught

the poor child to pee standing up?

i am an expert on all things gay!

once there was a black man

who worked in the warehouse

he was good for a black guy.

we weren’t friends, but we talked occasionally.

i heard some of that martin luther king jr speech.

i am an expert in being a person of color.

there was one day, i talked to a muslim woman

she told me her beauty is a gift

i told her to take the damn scarf off her face

and get with the program of the new world

this isn’t the 19th century anymore.

a tear fell from her eye and became a stain

on the mask she chooses to wear

no man or god can tell me what to do!

i did see that documentary over

the prophet muhammad on the history channel

i now an expert on all things islamic.

one day i was getting into my prius

my sweet sweet hippie-mobile

with the proper amount of bumper stickers

showing my progressive politics

letting everyone know how

radical i am in my efforts to

change the world making it a better place.

i read this article on the ozone layer

i am an expert on all things ecological

a black man who was obviously on crack

came and asked for some change.

he said he was hungry and all

though he was skin and bones

his face ghostly, gaunt, quite ashen

there was no way i was going

to help this man buy more drugs

i saw an intervention once or twice

i am an expert on all drug use.

one day i was walking through the park

and this thing passed me on the hiking trail

it was a shim-you know a man dressed like a woman

obviously not a real woman, the walk releasing

all the secrets attached to his genitals

i changed courses and caught up to him.

i told him i just had a few questions

“so do you have a you know…penis?

where do you put it?  is it really little

and that is why you dress like a girl?”

he broke into a run for some reason

it seemed almost as though he

didn’t want to tell me

what’s going on in his pants

but i am entitled that information

i have gone to a drag show

they are really funny

i am an expert on all things transvestite.

another day i was driving to the grocery store

and the cars were going less than 20 miles an hour

it was so slow, and really i had somewhere i needed to be

i had no time for this nonsense

i switched lanes and saw a man in a wheelchair

puttering down the road holding up traffic.

there aren’t sidewalks, but i doubt

he really needed to be somewhere

bad enough to hold up traffic

one day i read a book about a woman

who lost her legs in an accident.

i am an expert on all things disabled.

i don’t see the trouble

i don’t understand what these people

have to be upset about.

i have known oppression

i was born with a vagina and not a penis

not even a nubbin of a penis

is quite horrible, but i smile through

the difficulty

it’s only natural for men

to oogle me

it makes me feel

pretty

attractive

desired.

i  have been able to swim

the river of oppression

and i have had it much worst

than those others who chose

to not blend in

insisting on

their personal identity being counted

i am an expert on all things oppressive!

so if all those people would just shut up

at least try to look normal

stop being so weird

life would be much more simple

there are gay conversion clinics

organizations teaching muslim women not to submit

the trannies decide to go into public like that

there are drug rehab facilities

the cripples are looking for sympathy

the poor need to stop being so lazy

my difficulty is unavoidable

my oppression is the real deal

i am sick of people wallowing

in the “poor me” mud

that it is their choice

to be knee deep in anyway

but no one can understand

the pressures facing the

white middle class educated employed married

heteronormative cisgender woman

my barrel is overflowing with turmoil

there is no one coming to my aid

my oppression beats those others

in size, weight and density.

what they need is to stop being such

whiny asses especially when

they brought it all on themselves

-to win the three-legged race for being the most oppressed.  grand prize the beautiful cardboard crown, a blue ribbon, and a sash.

i think next year i should get the grand prize trophy

my anthem-an attempt at cheerful rhyming

one pig two pig

red white and blue pig

tell me how does the pig

find harmony, you dig?

what does it take to be free

opening my eyes and just to see

my oppression is caused solely by me

decisions to stand up and to fight

for what i tell me is right

i will not succumb to the horrors and fright

fighting for all

some big and some small

skinny, fat, stumpy, tall

it’s time to get up and sing

within yourself

“let freedom ring

to hell with the king!!”

let the prisoners go

demanding justice all night and day-o

kick and scream until all masters fall down, yo!

 

so does anyone have the gps location of the revolution?

Image

when i read or hear or talk to others about revolution, it is spoken like it is some action to be taken in the future.  when the idea of stopping discrimination by bucking the oppressors of “minorities” is said as though the oppressors have a headquarters set up somewhere, and one day the oppressed-anyone who is not wasp, rich (mindlessly rich-never paid a real bill rich),cis-male, heterosexual-are going to jump in their environmentally sound machines and turn the joint over, stealing our power back bc they took it away and keep it in a floor safe under lock and key guarded by a cerberus-like hellhound on pcp!!!  i run this through my mind as they are talking or i am reading and see it all play out usually in silent anime form with loads of jitsu, cleavage and beams of light.  but when i am alone and i think of these concepts my reality is a bit different.

everyday is a revolution.  it is not something that is going to happen someday somewhere maybe.  it is something i do daily.  it’s thinking, living, breathing, wanting, and loving my way.  it is living w other creatures in a productive atmosphere.  it is dancing when i have no legs, singing when i have no words and defying gods of the social constructs.  it is doing what is right for no reward except to do what is right.  it is laughing even when i am poor, it is walking down the street in the rain holding the hand of the woman i love even when they told me not to.  it is making decisions based on morality that is not up for debate.  revolution is waking up everyday and being me.

noone controls my power!  noone can take my power from me!  they can try to convince me i have no power or the power i do have is insufficient, but that only works if i believe the lie that someone else knows what is best for me better than i do.  when i decided to not wait for permission, i became in control of my power, and i can only be oppressed if i give up my rights of my own will.  

we have choices.  we all do.  we all have different choices than the ppl next to us.  we all have potential.  we all have power.  i chose to make a mark.  i chose to make my voice be heard.  i chose to never live in a shadow or a cave.  i will not give up my power to anyone else.  i have inherent worth and dignity-we call do, noone needs to tell us we are important bc we just are!  because of the choices i have made, my fingerprint is on mankind, as small as that seems in relation to other’s, it’s still there.  i will never leave the same fingerprint as ghandi, but why would i want to?  i leave my own!  through my children, through my friends, through my family, through my actions, through my words!  i live my revolution this moment!

professional soldiers of revolution, a paycheck for a protest

professional soldiers of revolution, a paycheck for a protest

activistkeystone

in about the year 2000 i started doing work for autism awareness and education.  i was invested bc, at that time, one of my sons (later all 3 would be diagnosed) had autism spectrum disorders.  when i started researching into what autism was there was a bare minimum of information and even less that was accurate.  understanding how to research was the key to my success and i realized that there are many many many people out in the real world that either have never been introduced to the research process or who are thoroughly exhausted and just can’t manage pulling the strength of complete comprehension together.  how could their children benefit from a diagnosis when the parents and caregivers are stuck in a world filled with words of science and dr speak?  how can you apply what you have been told when you don’t understand the language?  that seemed to me to be a huge flaw in the system.  those who desperately needed the information on an understandable and comprehensible level were the ones left out in the cold.   a dr being able to understand is absolutely irrelevant to the lives of a family watching a loved one suffer and struggle, a family barely holding on to sanity from lack of sleep, constant self denial, consistent struggles about food, chasing shoes that are thrown out of the windows of moving cars and screaming at cashiers in grocery stores bc they give you the stink-eye are those that need to understand what is happening, not the professionals.

i think it was about 2006 or 2007 when i first heard of autism speaks, the new improved voice in the battle AGAINST autism.  at the time they came out, i had no idea how harmful they would become, and i was happy to see that the word autism was getting some spotlight attention.  that ppl were investing in public education and it was/is necessary.  at that time the stats were 1 in 150 ppl had asd’s, now we have an astounding rate of 1 in 88.  so the autism struggle went from a grassroots org to a national org with a load of money to boot.  autism speaks has generous backers and quite the line up of celebrities to get their message across, but what they are missing is the ppl w autism.  where are the voices of ppl w autism in the stop autism campaign of autism speaks?  they aren’t there, bc autism speaks does not speak for most ppl w autism.  their campaigns of fear and hatefulness of a neurological difference is not only alienating but also villainizing those w autism spectrum disorders.  the platform of eradicating the neuroprocessing of the autistic is devastating and makes the autistic person feel they are not good enough in the way they think currently and since autism affects the entire brain and nervous system that controls the entire body, there is no part of them that is not autistic and being told that autism is bad is saying they are bad.  autism was now in the limelight and characterized as a baby stealing monster.

i saw this same thing happen with the lgbtqa movement.  there are professional groups that are set up to normalize queers.  instead of demanding the respect we deserve for you know being human beings, we must conform to the standard of “normal” set by a society of ppl who really don’t want us around.  we adopt the hetronormative values and mimic the way they live, talk, dress, walk bc this is the only way to get respect-to conform losing our identity and culture and history in the process.

this is happening in most movements-the vigor is lost in translation due to professional ppls having secret meetings and making compromises.  this happens in the black community, the hispanic community, the muslim movement, environmental movements, native americans and first nations movements.  we water it down, conforming into white culture bc our cultures cannot be accepted on their terms, we can have some sense of equality if we pretend to be wasp.

losing grassroots movements to nonprofit big corps is a compromise to justice.  it breeds complacency, it encourages segregation at the crossroads of intersectionality, it drowns out the voices of those who have been denied replacing them with calm soothing voices of professional narrators.  what group does a black muslim poor lesbian belong to?  which part of her identity does she consider the most underfire, what part is least important to the whole woman?

we are not making room for those who are in the fight!  there is no platform available for a poor man to scream from, for a woman of color to advocate from, for the prisoner to address the issues of incarceration.  the humanitarian efforts are commodities at market peddled by frat boys with dread locks wearing thousand dollar suits.  those who are starving or fighting for survival, those ppl who have been neglected by society are now neglected by those “taking on the good fight for their justice” and they should be thankful for the backwash flowing in their direction, watered down equality set aside for those that will adapt.  the iconic woman, the iconic black man, the iconic prisoner, the iconic native…this is dangerous, this is the stripping of culture and forcing a whitewash on humanity.  look they can do it, what are you bitching about?

i am confused and frustrated by the whole thing.  on one hand the issues are being brought to the table and ppl are being forced to look at it, on the other hand the watered down justice and silencing of communities is horrible.  i am happy we have the noam chomskys and gloria steinems of the world, thank you to political orgs for speaking for my uterus, but seeing the ppl grab justice by the throat, demanding repayment of debts bought off our backs, insisting we be heard over the voices paid by nonprofs is necessary to any true movement for radical equal rights long overdue.

clowns and powerstruggles

there is something absolutely undeniably goofy about power and the ways ppl (collectively and individually) strive to possess it.  for westerners our power, or sense of personal and political identity, generally has something to do with STUFF.  the more stuff we have the better off we are in the scheme of life.  look back on history….the romans loved stuff.  they loved going to new places and taking the indigenous populations stuff-gold, food, children, women, clothing, land, you know pretty much everything right down to culture and religion.  so we look back on the roman empire as a great empire with lots of land and loads of stuff they acquired simply by taking it away from other ppl.  look at england and france and spain, they all took good notes from roman culture, mostly because the culture that was there previous to roman invasion was burned and bred out, making the dominant culture, well, roman.  ok, but this is hundreds of years down the line, so they were considered separate-but they weren’t, they were the same, but for shits and giggles we will look at them as independent cultures and societies.  the english, french and spanish adored stuff, too.  they bickered and fought over  land, resources, women, slaves, all the stuff and then one would be on top for a decade while the others plotted how to get their stuff back, because that is the only way to have power-STUFF!  they would go back and forth, fighting and taking then warring and taking again.  soon they found out that there was more to the world than they thought.  o goodie more stuff!  more ppl more resources more land more power!  whoever wields the most of the stuff is the RULER OF THE WORLD!  so they traveled over to the new land and took stuff, fought about that stuff, then other ppl became powerful bc they won the stuff.  ok, so STUFF=POWER…i mean obviously from a historical perspective the answer is clearly “yuppers”.  well, that is the politics of nations, politics of politicians and conquerors, what that does that have to do with us now today in this moment?  the thing is this powerplay is only available on a political global scale bc we as individuals have small stuff wars all the time.  gold, silver, paper money, credit-scams to create the illusion of power.  and the best way to accumulate this power is to take stuff from someone else.  donald trump is no genius, he has no redeeming qualities to speak of, but he is a powerful man both politically and personally.  ppl give him their stuff, their money their power.  the funny thing is it is all, whether we are talking about political or personal global or private, an illusion.  the idea that there is only so much to go around is a lie!  it is a lie to keep ppl on the bottom and keep ppl on the top, but it is not real!  when something appears limited, it is deemed valuable and how very few ppl are able to attain the “valuable” things/items/thoughts/ideas are the ppl who wield the swords, leaving the idea that when something is in abundance it is not as worthy.  the majority of the world’s population has been told and shown that they are powerless, worth less, disposable.  but again a big fat lie!  we are all born with inherit power and worth, and the stuff is simply plastic surgery to hide that fact.  if every person was to recognize their true power, their own independent worth, then the system that has survived for so long dies.  if we stop saying that STUFF=POWER, and look at the truth, we stop the oppression train that has driven those few to the top of the mountain of stuff.  we don’t need to take power away from anyone else in order to have power.  it is ingrained in us, in all living things.  times are a’changin’.  instead of proving to the haves why we should have, it’s time for them to prove why we can havenot.  it is time for them to show their hand, to eliminate the stuff system they have relied on for so long.  i would reckon a bet that we will see the emperor’s new clothes are just figments of our imaginations.